Filchery
by ihfan
Summary: Filch's obsessions over a student are given a chance to manifest when Ron Weasley is sent to him for detention.


The room buried in the dungeons of Hogwarts was small, filthy, and freezing cold. All the free space in the room contained file upon file of contrivances committed by students while under Filch's watchful eye. Also, the many items confiscated from students over the years could readily be seen around the space. Only a small desk and bed were clear of the clutter. Filch's office was clearly only for storage, sleeping, and privacy. Truly, it is the room of an obsessive, dark, and grudge bearing man.

Filch's face was lit by a single candle as he sat at his desk; the light flickered over his quietly mumbling lips. No words escaped from his throat, just small gasps as the caretaker's mind wandered. The sound of a rhythmic beating echoed against the walls, as he sat back in his chair. His drawers and trousers drawn around his ankles as he jerked up and down on his manhood, his sac thumping against the seat of the chair with every downward motion. In his other hand he held a picture of a third year, a boy who never seemed to respect him, a student he loathed but could not stop dreaming about.

The jerking became faster and faster, his breathing became heavier as he looked at the picture, fantasizing of the dirty things he would do to the young student if he had the opportunity. Filch straightened his legs as his stomach clenched. Furiously beating away, he gasped as he came, letting each spurt of the hot liquid cover his shirt. He sagged in chair, sweating and trying to catch his breath in the small ecstasy of his release. As he sat, Filch took off his stained shirt and kicked off the pants around his ankles. He couldn't stop thinking of the boy, and how much he hated him and wanted him at the same time. Beating off used to rid him of his desires for a short while, but now it didn't help at all.

"Do you honestly think you can actually do anything worthwhile in my class Potter?" Snape asked Harry with acid in his voice. "It seems as though every potion you make is mediocre or worse than Longbottom's, so tell me. Do you feel like you don't have to try as hard because you're famous?"

"No sir. I do try." Harry said fuming. Ron was furious as he watched the exchange. Who the hell was Snape to ask these ridiculous questions? Harry was just having an off day, it happens.

"Well Mr. Potter, you would be wise to not try and use your fame as an excuse in my class." Raising his nose in the air with contempt, Snape turned to the whole class, "Just because you're parents are dead doesn't mean anyone will feel sorry for you Mr. Potter."

"You fuckin' twat!" Ron exclaimed as he stood up and knock his fists on the desk, "His family is none of your fuckin' business!" His chair fell to the floor behind him.

The classroom went silent. Everyone had their eyes fixed on Snape, waiting for his reaction. Snape turned slowly and faced the young Weasley. He looked collected but you could see his hands shake as he held back his fury.

"100 points from Gryffindor for that display Mr. Weasley." Snape's voice echoed through the room with his rage curling around the edges. "Also, a week's detention with Mr. Filch, maybe cleaning the toilets will teach you a little more humility and respect."

Ron stood staring at the Professor, furious and shocked. He couldn't believe what punishment he had been given.

"Professor, that's a little harsh." Harry said exasperated by the situation. He didn't know how to save his friend.

"Shut up Potter, I did not ask for you're input, 20 points from Gryffindor."

Everyone knew Filch was a dirty old squib who handed out the vilest of detentions. Only the worst cases of disobedience were sent to Filch, and usually only for one or two nights would be handed out. There was a rumor he had made one girl crawl through the sewage line just to find Mrs. Norris a rat to eat. The shock was soon replaced with hatred; Ron picked up his chair and sat back down next to Harry.

"No need to sit Mr. Weasley, you're dismissed. Head directly to Mr. Filch's headquarters in the dungeons." Snape said, with disgust in his voice.

Ron threw all his potion supplies in his bag and left the classroom, silence resonating in his wake.

The dungeons were a foul place, fit for only the likes of Slytherins and Ghosts. Ron walked down to Filch's office, still reeling with anger from the exchange with Professor Snape. "That asshole." Ron whispered as he stopped in front of the office door. It was an old solid door; it looked like he would walk into a Victorian prison rather than any kind of professional office. Ron rasped his knuckles against the ancient wood.

The door swung open and Ron looked up at Filch. The Castle's caretaker was wearing what he always wore, a dirty rag of a shirt, pants that were stylish a century ago, and old leather boots. His face had the leer of a man who had been fooled to many times to trust a single word from a student. His shoulder-length hair hung around his grimace like a frame on a painting.

Filch raised his eyebrows as he looked down at the boy.

"Yes, I got the note from Professor Snape. A whole week of detention with me, you must have done something quite bad." Filch could not believe what opportunity had fallen into his hands. The boy he fantasized about was right here, knocking on his door, waiting for him expectantly. The red hair, pale skin, and freckles almost made Filch forget why the boy was here in the first place.

Ron looked up at Filch with fire behind his eyes as he thought of what Snape had done earlier, "I don't think it was that bad. What do you want me to do Sir?"

Filch made the boy begin his detention by scrubbing the floors of the great hall. Ron was on his hands and knees scrubbing away tirelessly, helping him to deal with some of his frustrations. The caretaker stared at the boy, taking him in from every angle. Ron glistened with a layer of sweat from the ardor of his labor, and his torso moved back and forth with every scrub, popping his butt out with every backwards sweep. Filch nearly drooled as he watched Ron. He was only a third year, but Filch could tell the boy had obviously begun to fill out. He had grown slightly taller, developed a little bit of muscle, and you could see the hair beginning to grow on his arms and face. The bulge in Filch's pants grew as he supervised the detention, enjoying every moment.

Ron finished scrubbing the Great Hall around 7 in the afternoon. He threw his brush in the bucket next to him as he surveyed his work. His stomached growled, it must be time for dinner; his stomach being a better indicator of the hours than a watch. "Sir, may I have dinner with the rest of the students?" Ron asked, as he looked up from his kneeling position on the floor.

Filch looked at the boy on the ground, barely able to mask the raging hard-on in his pants. "Sure, boy." He said gruffly, "meet me outside the kitchens afterward to finish up your detention afterwards."

"Yes sir." Replied Ron, he jumped up from the floor to put away the brush and bucket.

Through the tall windows by the kitchens, Filch could see the Sun falling behind the horizon, tinting the sky a dark purple, and a breeze rustling through the forbidden forest. It was a beautiful night, and Filch could barely contain his excitement. He had not felt so care free for decades, and he stood by the entrance to the kitchens listening for the boy's footsteps. Filch couldn't help but to rub his swelling cock through his pants, the boy would be his tonight. As the thoughts ran through his mind, a door appeared on the wall across from him.

"Perfect." Filch said, as he looked at the entrance to the Room of Requirement. He had learned the secret long ago, and tonight he would share it with the Weasley boy. Filch's member grew harder in anticipation. Then, he heard footsteps echoing from down the hall. He tried to hide his boner as best he could and turned to face Ron.

Ron stopped in front of Filch; he was still shorter than the caretaker by a few inches and had look up at him.

"What's next Sir?" Ron couldn't help but to notice the slight bulge in Filch's pants as he glanced down.

"Well boy, walk through that door to see what you'll be doing next for detention." A smile swept across Filch's face as the boy stared at the door is confusion. " Go ahead then." Filch said, as he pushed the boy forward towards the door, losing his patience quite quickly.

Ron didn't like how eager Filch was to get him through the door. Something awful must be behind it. He tried to walk slowly towards the door, but Filch kept pushing him along until he was right in front of it.

Ron gulped, "Alright." He slowly pulled the door open.

The doorway led into a small room with tall windows on the wall directly across from the entry. Ron could make out the shape of the mountains in darkening horizon, the door had led them from the ground floor to somewhere very high up in the castle. The air was crisp in the room; it reminded Ron of the smell of Muggle department stores. On the left wall hung many chains, whips, and devices that Ron could only look at with fright. And in the middle of the room stood a stock, a restraint of sorts used to hold a person's head and hands in place, similar to the ones used long ago to punish people publicly.

"What am I going to do in here?" Ron asked, as he surveyed the room nervously.

The door shut with a loud clang, followed with a locking click. Filch looked down at the young boy and put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"You're going into the stocks young Weasley." Filch said smiling.

He grabbed Ron's shoulder more tightly and pushed the boy forward. Ron started to push back, twisting against the caretaker's grip.

"What the fuck old man!" Ron yelled. "I'm not going into the fuckin' stocks! You can't do this to students!" Ron struggled, he could hear Filch's breathing hitch with the effort, but Filch was stronger then he looked and didn't lose his grip. Ron began to use his elbows to try and gain leverage, but to no avail. The older man grabbed the back of Ron's neck and pushed him down into the stocks. With some effort and determination, Filch locked the struggling boy into the stocks successfully.  
>Ron was bent over, and struggling against the device holding him in place.<p>

"Are you fuckin' crazy! This is shite! Aghhhhh!" Ron was trapped and he knew

it.

Filch was horny as he looked at the boy struggle against the stocks, Ron's ass wiggling right in front of him. He walked up behind the boy and reached out his hand. He rubbed Ron's buttock and gripped it, the boy's body went rigid.

"Listen boy." Filch's said, his voice husky with desire. "We're going to have a great time with your detention tonight." Filch reached under the boy, and unfastened Ron's robes, which came undone easily enough and fell to the floor.


End file.
